Andromeda
by alohamora080
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Molly comforts a grieving woman.


10 May 1998

Molly stared blankly out of the kitchen doorway, tucking her wet rag into the waistband of her apron. It was only eleven o'clock, but the Burrow's sitting room was completely empty. Her children, her husband, Harry, and Hermione had all gone up to bed, and an unusually hushed silence had settled over the house. Yet, Molly doubted there was a single soul in her house that was actually sleeping.

Just that morning, they had laid Fred to rest at the newly constructed Hogwarts Cemetery by the Black Lake, along with the fifty-odd other bodies they had recovered from different parts of the castle.

George had slipped out halfway through the ceremony, and Molly had not seen him since. She and Arthur had checked everywhere—the Burrow, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the Leaky Cauldron, all over the Hogwarts castle, but they had been unable to snatch up even the slightest trace of him. It had been with a heavy heart that Molly had returned to the Burrow that afternoon. Arthur and Bill had told her, time and time again, that George would come home when he was ready.

But, that didn't stop Molly from worrying. She had already lost one child; she could not even begin to fathom the pain of losing another.

Biting her lip, Molly exited the kitchen and came to stand in the center of the sitting room, glancing around. The fireplace was crackling feebly in the corner, its golden embers struggling to stay alight. Arthur's armchair was teeming with weeks' worth of copies of the Daily Prophet, all of which had Harry's face splashed across the front page.

Trembling slightly, Molly lowered herself into her own armchair with a deep, shuddering sigh. She had not bothered following Arthur up to bed. She could not sleep—_would_ not sleep—knowing that, somewhere, her little Georgie was hunched over a bar, a bottle of Firewhiskey dangling from his fingers.

_Pop_.

A jolt of terror shot through Molly's spine, and, eyes widening, she leaped to her feet, gazing anxiously towards the Burrow's front entrance. Almost as though by second nature, Molly reached into her cloak, fingering her wand. Images of Death Eaters and Voldemort were racing through her mind.

Suddenly, there came a soft knocking, and, inhaling sharply, she hastened to door. Carefully, Molly curled her fingers around the brass doorknob and pressed her ear against the timber paneling.

"Who's there?" she croaked, heart pounding.

There was a long, hard silence. Molly frowned. Had she, perhaps, imagined the entire thing? Had she been dreaming? Had she fallen asleep, after all?

Then, she heard it. A soft snuffle, followed by a reassuring murmur. Molly's frown melted into a grimace of fear.

"Hello?" she called, a little louder. "Who's there?"

A pause.

Then—"It's Andromeda Tonks," whispered a voice.

Molly's shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. She hesitated. She had never met Tonks's mother. Andromeda had always been nothing but a name, brought up occasionally in conversation. Molly knew next to nothing of the woman.

"Molly," Andromeda said hoarsely, and Molly heard a rustle of what sounded like blankets. She raised her eyebrows. "Molly, my name is Andromeda Belvina Tonks. Last year, on the twenty-seventh of July, my hus—my husband and I allowed our home to be used as a safe house in the transportation of Harry Potter from Surrey to—"

Molly had heard enough. Slowly, she tugged open the door, peeking through the crack. A tall, dark, brown-haired woman stood on the front porch, a shawl draped loosely around her shoulders. And, in her arms, she held—

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Molly, swinging the door open fully. "Is that—that's—oh—goodness—!"

Molly's heart began racing rapidly as she stared at the tiny bundle in Andromeda's arms. Tucked beneath the tangle of blankets, Molly could just make out the smallest tuft of turquoise hair.

Wordlessly, Molly stepped aside, eyes still glued to the sleeping baby, and permitted Andromeda Tonks to step into the Burrow.

Andromeda wandered into the sitting room, staring around. Molly watched her silently. In the dim light of the front porch, Molly had not been able to catch anything but a trivial glimpse of the younger woman. But, now, in the sitting room, Andromeda Tonks's lucid resemblance to her elder sister became quite apparent. Molly couldn't help the chill of dread that trickled through her.

Almost as though she could understand Molly's train of thought, Andromeda coughed loudly, lifting her chin. And, Molly jumped, blushing.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" asked Molly briskly, bustling to the kitchen. "Or, maybe some elf-made wine? My son, Bill, sent some over yesterday—"

"Molly," Andromeda interrupted quietly, and Molly froze, staring at her. "I do not want anything, please."

There was a dull, lingering pause. Then, Molly nodded, strolling back over to the sitting room, where Andromeda had perched herself on the edge of the sofa, gently rocking little Teddy Lupin in her arms.

Slowly, Molly lowered herself back into her armchair, eyeing Andromeda curiously. She had not been expecting the woman to arrive at the Burrow so late in the night, much less with her grandson. Molly's gaze flickered, once again, to the sleeping infant. So peaceful, so innocent…so unaware of the tragedy which had, just days earlier, befallen him.

"I'm sorry if I've disturbed you."

Molly's eyes latched back onto Andromeda's. The woman was speaking slowly, her eyebrows contorting slightly as she gazed at Molly.

"It's no trouble," said Molly at once, shaking her head. "I wasn't asleep when you arrived."

"I wasn't talking about disturbing your sleep," said Andromeda. Her gaze was penetrating; Molly felt rather uneasy. "I meant your grieving. I realize this is not an easy night for you."

Molly cocked her head to the side. "Or for you, either," she said softly.

Andromeda stiffened, her grip on her grandson tightening slightly—almost protectively, noted Molly, with a pang of sorrow.

"Or for me, either," agreed Andromeda, after a moment.

Silence fell. Molly twiddled her thumbs, unsure of what to say. Andromeda Tonks was an interesting woman, she decided, frowning down at her lap. She was very aristocratic and certainly very in-control of her emotions, but Molly thought she saw a drawn—almost broken—bearing in her light brown eyes.

"Molly."

Molly looked up.

"I—" Andromeda hesitated, gently rearranging the blankets which encompassed Teddy Lupin. "Molly, the reason I came here is—I—I know that you knew Nymphadora—and Remus, quite well. And, I—" Andromeda broke off, biting her lip.

But, Molly had understood. She knew why Andromeda had come to the Burrow so late at night, she knew why Andromeda had immediately mentioned Nymphadora, and she knew why Andromeda had not so much as adjusted her firm hold on her grandson since she had stepped inside.

Andromeda was alone.

And, suddenly, Molly felt a rush of affection well up inside her. Molly was surrounded by her family. She was surrounded by people who understood the grief she was feeling, and felt it, too.

But, Andromeda had no one. She had lost everyone—everyone except little Teddy. She had no one to share the pain with, no one to cry with, no one to laugh with.

She was alone.

Molly took a deep, calming breath. Then—and, she didn't know what made her do it—she reached across the coffee table and took Andromeda's thin, wispy fingers in her own, larger ones.

Andromeda started, eyes widening. But, she didn't pull away. And, Molly thought she saw her chin tremble, ever-so-slightly.

"Yes, I knew Tonks," said Molly quietly, squeezing Andromeda's hand. "I knew her very well, and I loved her—and Remus—_so_ much, Andromeda."

Andromeda nodded, pressing her lips tightly together.

"And," Molly continued, watching Andromeda carefully. "And, while I may not have known him personally, I know Ted Tonks was a wonderful man, too."

Andromeda closed her eyes, sniffing loudly.

Then, quite suddenly, she burst into tears.

Molly sighed, immediately climbing out of her arm chair to sit by Andromeda on the living room sofa. Gently, she put an arm around the younger woman and pulled her close.

Andromeda shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I'm being so—_so_ ridiculous, Molly," she cried, hugging Teddy closer to her chest. "I'm—I can't—I don't know—"

"You're not being ridiculous," whispered Molly, gently patting Andromeda's shoulder. Molly's eyes too were beginning to burn slightly with tears, as the familiar feeling of loss settled over her. "You—you're being normal, Andromeda—"

"It's not fair!" wailed Andromeda suddenly, her shoulders trembling violently. "How—how is it that I—I've done everything right, Molly, I _have_. But, Narcissa—after everything she—after everything her family's done, her whole family gets away without a scratch—!"

"It's not fair, I know," agreed Molly, shaking her head. Tears were spilling down her own cheeks now. "It's not fair, at all."

"Bellatrix did it," croaked Andromeda abruptly, with a loud hiccup. "She did it. My—my own sister—she kill—killed my daughter, Molly. Do you realize how sick—how _twisted_—?"

Molly shook her head, her mind flickering automatically to the frozen smirk on Bellatrix's lifeless face as Molly's jet of green light hit her precisely in the heart.

"It's horrible," Molly told her, shivering slightly at the memory. "It's horrible, Andromeda—"

But, she was cut off as Andromeda let out a terrible, anguished cry, rocking back and forth on the sofa. Molly's heart sunk. She glanced at the small infant in Andromeda's arms, marveling fleetingly at the fact that he still was so obliviously asleep, whilst the woman who held him was in so much pain.

Within a few minutes, a quivering silence fell over the pair in the sitting room, punctuated only occasionally by a sniff from Andromeda and a soothing murmur from Molly, who was still clutching Andromeda's shoulders tightly.

Biting her lip, Molly chanced a glance at the brown-haired woman. She was staring at the stretch of wall in front of her, her face pale and Teddy still safely ensconced in her arms. Tear tracks glittered conspicuously under her purple-ringed eyes.

"Andromeda," Molly said quietly, and the brown-haired woman turned slowly to look at her. She seemed to have regained a little bit of her characteristic composure. The usual, balanced essence had returned to her slightly heavy-lidded eyes. But, as their gazes met, Molly thought she saw something stir in Andromeda's expression, causing the aristocratically self-assured woman to appear just the slightest bit…vulnerable.

Andromeda looked away quickly. "I'm sorry to have taken up your time this way," she muttered, climbing to her feet and pulling her cloak more firmly around her shoulders. "So silly…"

"Andromeda—"

"I'm sorry, Molly." Andromeda had already reached the door, seizing hurriedly at the doorknob. She glanced over her shoulder. "I had no right to come here—"

"Andromeda Tonks, come back here, _now_."

Molly had not meant for it to sound so sharp; she was surprised at herself. Andromeda, meanwhile, was gaping at Molly, eyes wide. For a moment, Molly thought she might march out of the room, affronted. But, after a fraught pause, the woman glided slowly back to the sofa and lowered herself back into the sofa, eyes as round as saucers.

Molly took a deep breath.

"Andromeda, I think—" she hesitated, patting Andromeda's arm. "I think you should spend more time at the Burrow."

Andromeda raised her head, eyebrows raised. She looked thoroughly stunned. "What?"

"You can't be alone anymore," Molly said firmly. "You have to visit us whenever you can. We're all—we're all going through the—same thing, now," Molly finished, voice shaking slightly. "And, you can't do it alone."

Andromeda was silent, but Molly thought she saw the slightest shadow of relief flutter across her forehead.

Molly continued, "Teddy," she said quietly. Andromeda's head snapped up; she looked suddenly defensive. "Teddy has a godfather whom I'm sure would love to meet him, sometime," whispered Molly, reaching out hesitantly to stroke the sleeping boy's shock of pink hair.

Andromeda gazed down at Molly's fingers, eyebrows furrowing.

"You know," said Molly, straightening her shoulders and considering Andromeda curiously. "I'm surprised Harry hasn't already asked you about Teddy. I would've thought that's the first thing he'd do—"

"He has asked," Andromeda interrupted pointedly. She pulled Teddy closer towards herself, and Molly extracted her fingers. "He asked this morning—at Hogwarts—at the—funeral."

Molly watched Andromeda carefully. The younger woman was rubbing Teddy's back soothingly, but there was a frenzied glimmer in her eyes.

There was a small pause.

Then—"You've no right to be alone right now, Andromeda," Molly said bluntly. Andromeda looked up, frowning. "And," Molly continued, the smallest flicker of a smile playing at her lips. "And, neither does Teddy."

Andromeda inhaled sharply, sitting up straight. And, Molly saw, in her expression, everything that made Andromeda's grief worth sharing. Sorrow, anger, happiness, gratitude, and nervousness melted into one face. Andromeda's.

And, Molly did the only thing she could think of. She hugged her. Andromeda's head hung limply against Molly's shoulder, her pale arm looping weakly around Molly. Teddy slept peacefully between them.

It was not until several minutes later, when the feeble pitter-patter of faraway footsteps echoed down of the nearby spiral staircase, that they broke apart abruptly. Molly jerked up, glancing at her watch. It was nearly twelve-thirty. She had been certain that her entire family would have been asleep, by now.

She looked at Andromeda in surprise. The other woman was blinking sleepily; Molly smiled faintly. Andromeda had finally gotten the rest she deserved.

The footsteps were growing louder, now. Molly straightened, breathing in deeply and half-expecting Arthur to come swinging around the banister with news of George.

But, it wasn't Arthur. It wasn't even one of her children. It was Harry, in all his disheveled glory, running a hand through his untidy black hair. Yawning, he stumbled into the sitting room and towards the kitchen. But, halfway there, realization struck, and he swiveled around, eyes widening.

"Mrs. Weasley!" he croaked. "I—sorry—I just came—some tea—!"

"I'll get it for you," Molly smiled softly, climbing to her feet and pacing to the kitchen. Harry tried to protest, but Molly swept past him, and he relented, moving back towards the sitting room.

Molly paused at the kitchen doorway, staring over her shoulder. Harry had noticed Andromeda sitting on the sofa, and was gazing, evidently stunned, from her to the baby in her arms.

"Hi, Andromeda," he said quietly.

Andromeda executed a brave attempt at a smile. "Hello," she said hoarsely.

Teddy gave a sudden, disgruntled wail, and Andromeda whispered soothingly in his ear, rubbing his tiny back.

"How's Teddy?" Harry asked, his gaze set firmly on the sleeping baby.

"He's fine," said Andromeda, shifting her grandson in her arms. There was a small pause. Then, suddenly, Andromeda glanced over Harry's shoulder, towards where Molly was lingering by the kitchen door. There was a tense, burning moment during which the two women's eyes meet. An electric understanding coursed through Molly's heart. She gave Andromeda a significant look. And, finally, with a slow nod, she said to Harry, "Wouldn't you like to hold him, Harry?"

Harry froze in his seat. Then, he raised his head. "I—" he broke off, looking astonished. "I—yeah—blimey—!"

Hastily, he clambered out of the armchair and towards Andromeda, who very carefully nestled Teddy into a amazed Harry's arms.

And, Molly sighed, smiling, as she retreated into the kitchen to prepare three cups of tea.


End file.
